Raymond was in his newest penthouse looking at some of the priceless paintings that he had just acquired. He always wondered what convinced him to buy them, when they should be in an art gallery for all to see.

There was one painting in particular that captured his interest. A woman was facing a lake at sunset, her hair blowing in a light breeze. Even though Raymond could not see the face of the lady in the picture it reminded him of his Lizzy. He always loved how the wind moved her hair.

He knew if he were to sell all the paintings he owned, that one would never be for sale.

Grey entered the room, and Raymond was annoyed. The young man knew better than to bother him when he was looking at his collection

He turned Grey in his seat ready to berate him, until he saw the look on his face. Raymond immediately knew that someone had died and he prayed silently it wasn't her

Four days later Raymond was attending Elizabeth Keen's funeral. He sat in the front with her coworkers from the FBI. Donald Ressler had furiously commented days earlier that it was a bad idea for him to attend Elizabeth's service. Assistant Director Harold Cooper defended Raymond, noting that he had every right to say goodbye to Elizabeth and Donald needed to bury his resentment of Raymond for the time being.

Several people gave eulogies for their dear friend and coworker. Most of the stories Raymond heard, he had already known about Lizzy. Though he was not in her life prior to the day they met months ago, he'd learned a lot about her.

When Tom was up at the podium crying for the wife he loved, Raymond wanted to confront him, to tell him it was his dark secrets that killed Elizabeth, and he had no right to mourn her. Raymond knew though not to make a scene, and in time he'd go to Harold and give him the information about Lizzy's husband with enough proof to have him locked away forever.

Raymond didn't give a eulogy. To him, his memories of Lizzy were sacred and not to be shared.

When Elizabeth's casket was lowered into the ground, many onlookers cried, but not Raymond, who kept his face blank, not giving away the pain he was feeling.

Hours later Raymond headed home. He dismissed Grey, Dembe, and Luli for the night. They were surprised, since in the long months of their employment he always would have one of them around, but they took their dismissals and went their separate ways, knowing not to argue or try to convince their boss he shouldn't be alone.

Raymond walked into the empty penthouse, slowly took off his hat and coat and hung them up. He walked over to the wet bar and poured himself a glass of Patron.

He took one big gulp, finishing it instantly. He leaned against the bar holding the empty glass in one hand with his other hand at his waist, allowing the burn of his drink run its course through him. Raymond glanced around his place, looking at everything around him, ending at the glass in his hand. He stared longingly into it for awhile and then threw it against the wall behind the wet bar, watching as it shattered into a million pieces. The bottle of Patron soon followed and then every glass and expensive bottle he owned.

He stormed over to the fireplace, grabbed the poker and swung at all the antiques on the coffee table. They smashed onto the carpet. Raymond strode over to the glass cabinets, breaking all the windows, ruining the wooden outline and destroying the valuable contents inside.

When he was done trashing his living room he headed towards the room where he kept his paintings and with the hook of the fire poker held in his hands he destroyed all his extravagant artwork, except for one.

Raymond's rage finally abated when his eyes came upon the painting that reminded him of Lizzy. The fire poker fell to the floor with a clangingsound echoing throughout the room. Raymond fell to his knees in front of the painting and stared at the woman looking at the lake. He threw his head back and screamed; the sound wasn't human. He slowly brought his hand to the drawing and ran his finger over the smooth paint. Raymond Lowered his head, his body shook as he sobbed, finally letting go of the tears he had been holding ever since he received the news of Lizzy's murder. Thinking that it should have been him and not someone so young still not done with life. Raymond remembered that he never told her how he had felt for her. She was the air he breathed and the rain that fell on him, the ground he walk on, the wind that he felt on his face, the fire that warmed him.

It was all gone now. The only thing he could think about was how he was going to survive and live his life without her. His Lizzy was gone and was never returning.